


you look like you should be a centerfold

by alexavindr (orphan_account)



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Angst, Body Image, Body Worship, But he doesn't think so, Charles has a cute lil' tum tum, Erik knows better, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, It's really short, M/M, Post Mpreg, Protective Erik, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Hatred, kinda sexual content?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 04:05:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6640801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/alexavindr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Don't you dare," Erik hissed, looking down at Charles, whose eyes were pitiful and big, "don't you <i>dare</i> say that. Don't even <i>think</i> it. You're beautiful, Charles. Fucking <i>gorgeous."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	you look like you should be a centerfold

**Author's Note:**

> So I was looking at this post on tumblr where there was a statue of Aphrodite and, surprise, she had stomach rolls. This is the goddess of love and beauty we're talking about here. Anyway, I thought of Charles and Erik's different body types and how Charles would always be comparing himself to Erik, and then took it several decades further into the future and let men be able to have children. Erik is a sweetheart and doesn't want to see his CharChar cry, basically.
> 
> Title from Overnight Sensation by BØRNS. (I love him asdfghkl)

Erik turned out the light beside their bed, Charles folding up his book and setting it on the bedside table. In the darkness, Erik smiled at his husband, whose eyes lit up.

"Thank  _fuck_ the kids are gone," Charles growled huskily as Erik threw himself on top of the brunet, going straight for his neck. He then slipped a knee in between Charles' thighs. Charles gasped. "Felt like we haven't done this in  _forever."_

"Too long," agreed Erik. He licked at the porcelain skin and reveled in its clean, just-showered taste.  _God,_ he loved Charles. He loved his taste, his voice, the feel of his body beneath his. They fit perfectly, even after fifteen years and three kids. It was still just as exciting for Erik to wake up next to this man everyday as it was when they first started dating. There was nothing that made Erik happier to just sit down at the dining table with his family and eat breakfast. That was the sign of a good marriage, he knew.

But, even though he loved the twins and Lorna with every ounce of his being, he kind of needed them gone for the weekend. It'd been almost three  _months_ since he and Charles had had sex, which was almost a new record. Erik's body ached with the need to touch his husband in a way that wouldn't scar his kids for life. Charles could easily say the same.

Erik's hands traveled downward, and rucked up Charles' faded t-shirt, brushing up his stomach and to his pectorals. Whereas before Charles had been shaking with excitement and arousal, he stopped, and froze. There were only certain moments where this could mean anything remotely good at all, and by the way Charles was biting his lip and furrowing his eyebrows, Erik could tell this was definitely not one of those moments.

"Charles?" he whispered, removing his hands from underneath his shirt. Charles exhaled shakily as Erik's fingertips trailed back down his abdomen. He looked scared, like he'd been caught, been shamed. Erik didn't know why. He'd never do that to Charles, he wasn't some misbehaving puppy needing to be disciplined. "Darling, what's wrong?"

Charles merely looked away and brought his hands up further to clench in the sheets, his knuckles white. Erik moved closer, between Charles' splayed legs. He reached out and gingerly touched his face.

"Hey," Erik murmured. Charles turned away from the touch. 

Erik felt like he'd been slapped across the face. Charles had never been like this with him before. There was him being tired, or him just not being in the mood, but this was...this was  _scared._ Something Erik made sure Charles never was when he was with him. Had he made Charles uncomfortable? It's not like he had done that for the first time. In fact, that was normally how they started out.

Maybe was that what he was doing wrong? Had he overstepped somehow? His mind  _was_ rather clouded by lust, still was, distantly, so it was possible he'd pushed Charles too quickly. But Charles wouldn't have done  _that,_ he would say something, at least.

"Charles, baby, please talk to me," he pleaded. Charles choked out something akin to a sob, and Erik's eyes blew wide. _Oh no. No no no no no,_ Erik thought, his brain short-circuiting as Charles' chest stuttered. That was the  _opposite_ of his job as Charles' partner, as his lover. He wasn't supposed to make him _cry._  "What did I do? Charles, what did I do? You have to talk to me, okay? I need to know..."

A tear rolled down Charles' cheek - a crime for which Erik would never forgive himself - as he grabbed the hand that was on his face and guided it to...

his  _belly._

"What?" Erik asked. perplexed. Was Charles pregnant again? They hadn't had sex in months, he would've been showing signs by now, plus they'd been using condoms. "What do you mean - "

And then it clicked. 

Erik wanted to hit something. Mainly himself. He wanted to incinerate every single one of Lorna's fashion magazine's and the twins' Disney channel shows. He wanted to strangle every single woman and man who portrayed their skinny, tan bodies like they were what needed to be achieved. He wanted to shield Charles from that, those cancerous, poisonous images and altered photos, for what they made him think. They were everywhere, even in their own home, and it was affecting him without them knowing it.

Then there was Emma Frost, the flirtatious kindergarten teacher that always came on to Erik while Charles was there, with her "perfect" proportions and symmetry, and Steve Rogers, whose son Peter was Pietro's best friend, who did nothing wrong by looking like the poster-child of perfect body health, but made Erik want to destroy him and his defined pectorals. With all that exposure to what media advertised as attractive, of course Charles would compare himself to it.

And then, Erik realized, there was himself, and while he was not a particularly vain creature he knew that his body was more enviable than some. But that was the product of a rough childhood, of not having enough to eat. He would never want Charles to wish to look like him, because it would mean going through days of eating nothing and living in the slums. The fact that he played a role in Charles' self-consciousness was terrifying nonetheless.

Erik wanted to cry too at the thought.

"Charles,  _no,"_ he whispered in a horrified voice. The other man sniffled. "Why would you  _ever..._ "

"Three kids," Charles said hoarsely. He looked at Erik, his bright, beautiful, _brilliant_ blue eyes shining with tears that did not belong there. "I'm not exactly who you fell in love with anymore, am I?"

Erik's heart broke into jagged, sharp pieces that tore him apart from the inside. The words, so,  _so_ untrue and utterly ugly in Charles' mouth, to Erik's ears, were enough to make Erik want to destroy everything in existence for giving Charles this amount of pain, this amount of self-doubt. When had he ever given any indication that Charles was no longer the man who he decided to devote his entire life to? There was no possible way that could ever be true. 

"What are you  _talking_ about?" Erik demanded angrily. Charles swallowed. "How are you still not the person I love? The person I fell in love with? That's the fucking craziest thing I've ever heard."

"Well, I - I mean, look at you, for God's sake, you haven't changed since college, and here I am with stretch marks and - and fifteen extra pounds I can't lose, and...I don't look the same anymore." Charles watched Erik's face contort into one of pure rage. There was no quelling the burn to make Charles understand, that he was the most beautiful thing in existence and Erik  _loved_ him. Would  _always_ love him, no matter his weight or shape, which he loved _anyway_. Charles, the professor with an IQ of one-hundred and sixty-five couldn't figure out how _meaningless_ his body was to Erik. And even _then_ , Erik still loved it, still thought it was attractive and wholesome and _his_.

Erik came up the bed, bracketing Charles' body with his own, and pushed Charles' shoulders down. He stared into his eyes, needing him to know. To know everything. 

"Erik - "

"You are the most stunning thing I've ever seen," Erik hissed through clenched teeth. "No one, nothing, can amount to how amazing you are. Do you understand? I think you're so  _fucking_ beautiful - "

"How?" Charles whispered brokenly. He drew his legs in to his body and brought his knees together, as if to barricade Erik from going further down towards his stomach.

Erik looked at Charles blankly, so utterly surprised and shocked that he didn't have anything to say. There were no words, no feeling, to describe the way what Charles was saying was doing to him. It was  _killing_ him to see his husband, his genius, jovial husband that was always smiling and laughing, actually _crying_ about the way his body looked and how he didn't think Erik found him attractive anymore.

It was  _torture_ to see him like this, torture of the absolute worst kind.

"Don't you dare," Erik snarled when he could finally speak, looking down at Charles, whose eyes were pitiful and big, "don't you _dare_ say that. Don't even _think_ it. You're beautiful, Charles. Fucking _gorgeous."_

Erik stared into Charles' irises and tried to give him his most sincere, no-bullshit, believe-me- _goddammit_ look. Charles looked bit his lip self-consciously again, and Erik actually let out a feral-like growl.

"Erik - "

"You daft man," Erik spat before he put his hands between Charles' knees to pull them apart and pounced.

Charles closed his eyes and shuddered violently, letting out a surprised yelp as Erik dipped down and tongued at his clavicle, his hands rucking up his shirt to massage at his soft stomach. He let out a small, broken noise, almost one of protest, but it wasn't, so Erik kept going. Erik knew that Charles was going to accept this. He also knew that he was going to make Charles come to terms with his body, and have him see how breath-taking he still was, had always been.

Erik loved the feel of the crushed velvet skin beneath his fingertips, the way it contracted when he touched a sensitive area. He hummed into the crook of Charles' neck and trailed his lips lower, Charles' breath speeding up as Erik lifted his shirt over his head. 

He skirted past Charles' nipples, something he didn't normally do, but he was on a mission for something else at the moment. He finally got down to the beautiful expanse of shining, dazzling skin. The stretch marks from the past pregnancies were merely battle scars, reminders of how Charles brought forth the brightest lights of his life. Without those stretch marks, Erik would be a different man. He owed everything to those stretch marks.

Erik traced them with his fingers, his tongue, while Charles squirmed above him, making delicious noises in the back of his throat. Charles' fingers wound into his hair, locking into place. Erik let them tug and pull.

"So beautiful," he whispered just about Charles' navel. Charles whined. 

"Erik," moaned the brunet, gasping for air. "Oh,  _Erik - "_

Erik did reach up to pinch at one of Charles' nipples this time, earning him a satisfying gasp. He then went back to tracing the stretch marks with his tongue, humming appreciatively along them.

He wasn't aware of what Charles was saying until the very last moment.

"Erik, gonna -  _fuck - "_ The front of Charles' pajama shorts suddenly became wet as he came, Erik watching his slack-jawed expression with awe and pride. He made Charles  _orgasm_ by licking his pregnancy scars and playing with his nipples. Erik grinned at him and raised himself back up to his face to kiss Charles.

"Love you," he said when he pulled away. Charles nodded, then shoved his hand down Erik's boxers. His grip around Erik's erection was shaky but firm, focused but losing its control.

Erik loved it, just as he did with everything else Charles did to him, groaning as Charles swiped his thumb over the head. 

It didn't take long before he climaxed with a low moan and a jerk of his hips.

Erik looked at Charles' blissed out expression as he lazily cleaned them up, laying beside each other naked and sated. Erik's arm curled around Charles' middle and squeezed tightly.

"You're the best thing to ever happen to me," Charles mumbled, his voice low and rumbling as he drifted off to sleep. Erik smiled and kissed his cheek, happiness and contentedness welling up inside him to an almost overwhelming level.

"And you the most breath-taking," Erik whispered back with smile, giving an extra pull of his arm that was draped over Charles' body. His husband turned his head and kissed him on the nose with a smile that Erik hoped would never leave his face.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I started this at 11:30 at night and finished it at 2:00 am, and it's slapdash and probably shitty...and also my first attempt at "porn". Input, maybe? I'm really nervous about this, seeing that I'm actually venturing out into the unknown this one. *shrivels up and dies*


End file.
